Wild, erotic, and creative, Jamaican dancehall has climbed from the slums and ghettos of West Kingston to become one of the most familiar styles of dance today. This symbolic revolution reinforces the creation of self and sense within a temporary and trivial space, at which point similarities and dissimilarities are recreated, valued and shared amongst its group. It is easy to see that Jamaica’s dancehall culture is the event of the continual confrontation and protestation of the unequal transgressions pertaining to socio-political, gendered and classed hierarchies within the country (Hope, 2003, p. 125).
Passa Passa is a weekly street dance that takes place in Tivoli Gardens. It begins in the late evening and runs until early morning in the “dodgy” part of town, West Kingston. It has become extremely popular because of its political role in society. As Keller puts it, “in a global media world, extravagant…spectacles have been orchestrated in part to gain worldwide attention, dramatize the issues of the groups involved, and achieve specific political objectives” (2004, p. 43). Its culture reflects the discrepancies that exist between Jamaica’s high-society and the working-class. In fact, the conflicting principles that exist between the dominant political party, the Jamaica Labour Party, and the non-JLP supporters have resulted in a segregated nation “Upper class hegemony has persisted through successive left-wing and right-wing governments that have been orchestrated and operated by an ethically diverse elite” (Hill, 2000, p. 956).
In spite of this political and social division, dancehall has been kept alive because of its ability to recognize and accept these conflicting identities between communities. It is considered to be a form of musical expression, as it gives the poor a chance to find some release from the harsh circumstances they must cope with on a day-to-day basis. “Artists of a new genre are making use of this opportunity of spaces where you take your place, enter into dialogue, persuade, feel pressure, experience the possibility of democracy” (Querrien, 2000, p. 309). Even still, the attempt to overcome discrimination may be unfeasible, as Jamaica’s high-society holds sway. Although a society ought to reflect diversity, its second-class people are limited when it comes to political and economical change. The rich tend to be concerned with their own well-being, and with others who share their principles, and “Once wide disparities are created…elites will also take conscious steps to preserve their status. Because they dominate it and the government, the economy will work to serve the needs of the rich, rather than the masses” (Elliott & Harvey 2000, p. 398).
Equally important, dancehall culture is associated with gendered hierarchies. Segregation is typical; all male and all-female groups fill the streets, but when the cameras turn up, it is every man and woman for themself (Hope, 2003, p. 132). Dancehall tends to centre on sex and sexuality; during Passa Passa, the female body is used as a sexual object representing male empowerment. “Dancehall fashion operates within a patriarchal economy which positions women as the object of male desire and control” (Bakare-Yusuf, 2006, p. 1).
At the same time, Jamaican dancehall forbids homosexuality. The music attacks homosexuality despite the fact that homosexuals were among the first to take the stage once upon a time, when women ruled Jamaican dancehall. As they took centre stage, men would either “hang out,” watch, or DJ the event (Hope, 2003, p. 133). Initially, dancehall was one-dimensional when it came to male dancing; it was viewed as an inexpressible form of masculinity. “ The spaces that historically existed in Jamaican culture for men to dance were always cast as middle- or upper-class or religious; or feminized and homosexual, that is, unmanly” (Hope, 2003, p. 132).
Evidently, the tables have turned. Male dancing has become a cultural norm whereas almost 40 years ago masculinity was considered to be compromised if dance was performed. It is no surprise that this popular form of expression has transformed the boundaries of male behaviour. Now that dancehall has become a global phenomenon, “…it is time for artists and supporters to come to terms with the fact that gay people are very visible elsewhere and politically empowered” (Hope 2003, p. 134). Following this further, the media has had a profound effect on dancehall culture; by popularizing male dancers, “hardcore” Jamaican dancers make rhythm and dance their job. They battle for centre stage in hopes of experiencing a moment of limelight through videolight (Hope, 2003, p. 135).
Without a doubt, political and economical differences are inevitable. When these matters result in inequality or malady the emergence of a social movement between people who share the same status will attempt to rid society of this injustice; in this case, that movement is the dancehall. Elliott and Harvey argue, “when economic activity is not directly concerned with maintaining class position, the existence of inequality leads both elites and the impoverished to seek status via conspicuous consumption” (2000, p. 398). Passa Passa gives lower-class individuals the chance to sell a variety of goods to make ends meet. This event, along with others like it, “…provide a legitimate arena where residents of these communities can “hustle for a food” by vending a variety of goods ranging from food items to alcoholic beverages, cigarettes, and marijuana” (Hope, 2003, p. 131).
Indeed, while Tivoli Gardens is regarded as an unsafe district, its inhabitants make sure that visitors are in safe hands. In fact, any deviant behaviour within the community is handled with great consequence, as it undermines the group’s ideology of peace and security (Hope, 2003, p. 130). Any act of violence would steer folks away, and the community would suffer economically, socially and culturally, and subsequently, Passa Passa would come to an end. “Incidences of harassment, robbery, or otherwise would also signal the retreat of patrons, a reduction of the event’s attraction to “outer city” residents, and negative publicity from the mainstream and community media” (Hope, 2003, p. 130). Hence, serious repercussions are put in effect if violent behaviour takes place, and the “positive vibes” are compromised, then physical injuries are expected (Hope, 2003, p.130).
Perhaps Passa Passa has become so wide-reaching because of its ideology of collective identity. Considering dancers tend to perform in all-male and all-female groups, this “closeness” may symbolize their drive to change their existing reality. Since they suffer from hardship, it may be easier for them to reflect and change as they share similar interests and experiences. Dancers become a part of something that is their home away from home. Kebede, Shriver, and Kottnerus propose that, “collective identity is both the product and the cause of collective action…collective identities are created in the midst of collective actions, and the process of maintaining them stimulates further collective action” (2000, p. 316). In that case, not only does Jamaican dancehall advocate change and progress, but it also encourages physical, emotional, and perhaps even spiritual growth. The “mix up and blender” approach “participates in the sociocultural construction of personhood, meanings, and knowledge” Hope, 2003, p. 126).
Videolight is the powerhouse behind dancehall culture. During Passa Passa, dancers utilize the camera to show their flair and force; their five minutes of fame signify their ability to remain within the given space while performing their best dance (Hope, 2003, p. 136). “Video Light Syndrome” is a common condition in dancehall. It denotes a strong desire to be on camera, since performances are broadcasted on local channels, and recognition is likely. Essentially, dancers will even wear flashy and erotic attire, and high-priced jewellery to increase their chances of stardom (Hope, 2003, p. 136). For these underprivileged individuals, being caught on camera, or having their photo taken is invaluable. In that moment, their situation becomes insignificant, as their rigid realities come to a halt, and collectiveness is embraced. In that moment, sameness becomes difference and difference becomes sameness. In that moment, they are liberated from the unequal social, political and economical transgressions that have plagued the island. (Hope, 2003, p. 139).
The globalization of technology has had a profound impact on Jamaica’s dancehall culture. For one thing, video cameras and still photos give dancers the opportunity to have their individuality revealed to the world. In fact, “one of the most important functions of culture is to pass ideas from one generation to another…today the media have assumed the roles of storytellers” (Straubhaar & LaRose 2008, p. 46). Moreover, dancers use the technology to prove to the world that they are individuals of merit, and that they too should have the opportunity to excel and prosper. The cameras “effectively free their digitized images from the disempowering social and political entrapment they face in Kingston’s inner cities…their spirits will be freed form the here and now to be seen and heard in the there and elsewhere” (Hope, 2003, p. 137). In To put it differently, technology’s capabilities are endless; pictures can be completely manipulated to emphasize specifics and and their meanings are eternal
What is more, people in other parts of the world can share the same experience and/or learn something new. For example, folks can watch video clips of Passa Passa via youtube.com to brush up on their moves. In this sense, “…a new way of doing things is communicated through media and interpersonal channels over time among the members of a community” (Straubhaar & LaRose 2008, p. 48).
In short, although Jamaican dancehall represents a bond between the ideologies, symbols and realities that are shared and created amongst its members of the black, lower class and inner cities of the island, Jamaica’s dancehall culture is the product of the ongoing battle between the socio-political, gendered and classed hierarchal inequalities within the country (Hope, 2003, p. 125).
Works Cited
AlenSegned, Kebede, Thomas E. Shriver, and David J. Knottnerus. "Social Movement Endurance: Collective Identity and the Rastafari." Sociological Inquiry (2000): 316.
Bakare-Yusuf, Bibi. "Fabricating Identities: Survival and The Imagination in Jamaican Dancehall Culture." Fashion Theory (2006): 461-83.
Elliot, Dawn R., and John T. Harvey. "Underdevelopment In Jamaica: An Institutionalist Perspective." Journal of Economic Issues (2000): 398.
Hill, Donald. "Wake The Town and Tell the People: Dancehall Culture in Jamaica." Rev. of Norman C. Stolzoff. American Ethnologist 2000: 956-57.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NunltjQMJq0&feature=related
Wild, erotic, and creative, Jamaican dancehall has climbed from the slums and ghettos of West Kingston to become one of the most familiar styles of dance today. This symbolic revolution reinforces the creation of self and sense within a temporary and trivial space, at which point similarities and dissimilarities are recreated, valued and shared amongst its group. It is easy to see that Jamaica’s dancehall culture is the event of the continual confrontation and protestation of the unequal transgressions pertaining to socio-political, gendered and classed hierarchies within the country (Hope, 2003, p. 125).
Passa Passa is a weekly street dance that takes place in Tivoli Gardens. It begins in the late evening and runs until early morning in the “dodgy” part of town, West Kingston. It has become extremely popular because of its political role in society. As Keller puts it, “in a global media world, extravagant…spectacles have been orchestrated in part to gain worldwide attention, dramatize the issues of the groups involved, and achieve specific political objectives” (2004, p. 43). Its culture reflects the discrepancies that exist between Jamaica’s high-society and the working-class. In fact, the conflicting principles that exist between the dominant political party, the Jamaica Labour Party, and the non-JLP supporters have resulted in a segregated nation “Upper class hegemony has persisted through successive left-wing and right-wing governments that have been orchestrated and operated by an ethically diverse elite” (Hill, 2000, p. 956).
In spite of this political and social division, dancehall has been kept alive because of its ability to recognize and accept these conflicting identities between communities. It is considered to be a form of musical expression, as it gives the poor a chance to find some release from the harsh circumstances they must cope with on a day-to-day basis. “Artists of a new genre are making use of this opportunity of spaces where you take your place, enter into dialogue, persuade, feel pressure, experience the possibility of democracy” (Querrien, 2000, p. 309). Even still, the attempt to overcome discrimination may be unfeasible, as Jamaica’s high-society holds sway. Although a society ought to reflect diversity, its second-class people are limited when it comes to political and economical change. The rich tend to be concerned with their own well-being, and with others who share their principles, and “Once wide disparities are created…elites will also take conscious steps to preserve their status. Because they dominate it and the government, the economy will work to serve the needs of the rich, rather than the masses” (Elliott & Harvey 2000, p. 398).
Equally important, dancehall culture is associated with gendered hierarchies. Segregation is typical; all male and all-female groups fill the streets, but when the cameras turn up, it is every man and woman for themself (Hope, 2003, p. 132). Dancehall tends to centre on sex and sexuality; during Passa Passa, the female body is used as a sexual object representing male empowerment. “Dancehall fashion operates within a patriarchal economy which positions women as the object of male desire and control” (Bakare-Yusuf, 2006, p. 1).
At the same time, Jamaican dancehall forbids homosexuality. The music attacks homosexuality despite the fact that homosexuals were among the first to take the stage once upon a time, when women ruled Jamaican dancehall. As they took centre stage, men would either “hang out,” watch, or DJ the event (Hope, 2003, p. 133). Initially, dancehall was one-dimensional when it came to male dancing; it was viewed as an inexpressible form of masculinity. “ The spaces that historically existed in Jamaican culture for men to dance were always cast as middle- or upper-class or religious; or feminized and homosexual, that is, unmanly” (Hope, 2003, p. 132).
Evidently, the tables have turned. Male dancing has become a cultural norm whereas almost 40 years ago masculinity was considered to be compromised if dance was performed. It is no surprise that this popular form of expression has transformed the boundaries of male behaviour. Now that dancehall has become a global phenomenon, “…it is time for artists and supporters to come to terms with the fact that gay people are very visible elsewhere and politically empowered” (Hope 2003, p. 134). Following this further, the media has had a profound effect on dancehall culture; by popularizing male dancers, “hardcore” Jamaican dancers make rhythm and dance their job. They battle for centre stage in hopes of experiencing a moment of limelight through videolight (Hope, 2003, p. 135).
Without a doubt, political and economical differences are inevitable. When these matters result in inequality or malady the emergence of a social movement between people who share the same status will attempt to rid society of this injustice; in this case, that movement is the dancehall. Elliott and Harvey argue, “when economic activity is not directly concerned with maintaining class position, the existence of inequality leads both elites and the impoverished to seek status via conspicuous consumption” (2000, p. 398). Passa Passa gives lower-class individuals the chance to sell a variety of goods to make ends meet. This event, along with others like it, “…provide a legitimate arena where residents of these communities can “hustle for a food” by vending a variety of goods ranging from food items to alcoholic beverages, cigarettes, and marijuana” (Hope, 2003, p. 131).
Indeed, while Tivoli Gardens is regarded as an unsafe district, its inhabitants make sure that visitors are in safe hands. In fact, any deviant behaviour within the community is handled with great consequence, as it undermines the group’s ideology of peace and security (Hope, 2003, p. 130). Any act of violence would steer folks away, and the community would suffer economically, socially and culturally, and subsequently, Passa Passa would come to an end. “Incidences of harassment, robbery, or otherwise would also signal the retreat of patrons, a reduction of the event’s attraction to “outer city” residents, and negative publicity from the mainstream and community media” (Hope, 2003, p. 130). Hence, serious repercussions are put in effect if violent behaviour takes place, and the “positive vibes” are compromised, then physical injuries are expected (Hope, 2003, p.130).
Perhaps Passa Passa has become so wide-reaching because of its ideology of collective identity. Considering dancers tend to perform in all-male and all-female groups, this “closeness” may symbolize their drive to change their existing reality. Since they suffer from hardship, it may be easier for them to reflect and change as they share similar interests and experiences. Dancers become a part of something that is their home away from home. Kebede, Shriver, and Kottnerus propose that, “collective identity is both the product and the cause of collective action…collective identities are created in the midst of collective actions, and the process of maintaining them stimulates further collective action” (2000, p. 316). In that case, not only does Jamaican dancehall advocate change and progress, but it also encourages physical, emotional, and perhaps even spiritual growth. The “mix up and blender” approach “participates in the sociocultural construction of personhood, meanings, and knowledge” Hope, 2003, p. 126).
Videolight is the powerhouse behind dancehall culture. During Passa Passa, dancers utilize the camera to show their flair and force; their five minutes of fame signify their ability to remain within the given space while performing their best dance (Hope, 2003, p. 136). “Video Light Syndrome” is a common condition in dancehall. It denotes a strong desire to be on camera, since performances are broadcasted on local channels, and recognition is likely. Essentially, dancers will even wear flashy and erotic attire, and high-priced jewellery to increase their chances of stardom (Hope, 2003, p. 136). For these underprivileged individuals, being caught on camera, or having their photo taken is invaluable. In that moment, their situation becomes insignificant, as their rigid realities come to a halt, and collectiveness is embraced. In that moment, sameness becomes difference and difference becomes sameness. In that moment, they are liberated from the unequal social, political and economical transgressions that have plagued the island. (Hope, 2003, p. 139).
The globalization of technology has had a profound impact on Jamaica’s dancehall culture. For one thing, video cameras and still photos give dancers the opportunity to have their individuality revealed to the world. In fact, “one of the most important functions of culture is to pass ideas from one generation to another…today the media have assumed the roles of storytellers” (Straubhaar & LaRose 2008, p. 46). Moreover, dancers use the technology to prove to the world that they are individuals of merit, and that they too should have the opportunity to excel and prosper. The cameras “effectively free their digitized images from the disempowering social and political entrapment they face in Kingston’s inner cities…their spirits will be freed form the here and now to be seen and heard in the there and elsewhere” (Hope, 2003, p. 137). In To put it differently, technology’s capabilities are endless; pictures can be completely manipulated to emphasize specifics and and their meanings are eternal
What is more, people in other parts of the world can share the same experience and/or learn something new. For example, folks can watch video clips of Passa Passa via youtube.com to brush up on their moves. In this sense, “…a new way of doing things is communicated through media and interpersonal channels over time among the members of a community” (Straubhaar & LaRose 2008, p. 48).
In short, although Jamaican dancehall represents a bond between the ideologies, symbols and realities that are shared and created amongst its members of the black, lower class and inner cities of the island, Jamaica’s dancehall culture is the product of the ongoing battle between the socio-political, gendered and classed hierarchal inequalities within the country (Hope, 2003, p. 125).
Works Cited
AlenSegned, Kebede, Thomas E. Shriver, and David J. Knottnerus. "Social Movement Endurance: Collective Identity and the Rastafari." Sociological Inquiry (2000): 316.
Bakare-Yusuf, Bibi. "Fabricating Identities: Survival and The Imagination in Jamaican Dancehall Culture." Fashion Theory (2006): 461-83.
Elliot, Dawn R., and John T. Harvey. "Underdevelopment In Jamaica: An Institutionalist Perspective." Journal of Economic Issues (2000): 398.
Hill, Donald. "Wake The Town and Tell the People: Dancehall Culture in Jamaica." Rev. of Norman C. Stolzoff. American Ethnologist 2000: 956-57.
Hope, Donna P. "Reggae: Clash- Gays vs. Dancehall- Part 2." 2003. <http://www.ttgapers.com/article992.html>.
Kellner, Douglas. "9/11 Spectacles of Terror And Media Manipulation." Critical Discourse Studies (2004): 43.
Straubhaar, Joseph, and Robert LaRose. Media Now: Communications Media in the Information Age. 5th ed. Belmont: Wadsworth/ Thompson Learning, 2008.
Querrien, Anne. The Exodus lives on the Street Corner. France: Moutot Imprimeurs, 2007
We've got a lot to learn!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TnwzmbryimA